


Unmarked

by MxGryffindorOtaku



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF, sanderssides
Genre: (Blink and you miss it type stuff), (nothing beyond one scene but please be careful with it- it's in chapter 3), (when I say brief I mean BRIEF), Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Brief Self-Harm, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slightly graphic descriptions of violence, Soulmate AU, Tumblr Prompt, brief mentions of underage drinking, brief mentions of underage sex, soulmate identifying marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-03-24 10:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13809282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxGryffindorOtaku/pseuds/MxGryffindorOtaku
Summary: Patton and Logan were happy. Virgil was not. Roman could pretend to be if he tried hard enough. Patton and Logan had been holding hands since their time ran out and Roman was waiting to see all the Disney movies in full color. Virgil… Virgil didn’t have a soulmate. The victim of merciless torment at his high school, he made a decision to be accepted to the preppy academy on the other side of town as soon as possible. The high school Roman, Patton, and Logan all happened to be attending. Their paths start to crisscross and merge and the four boys learn a thing or two about what being someone’s soulmate really means.Based upon a "prompt" off Tumblr. (https://allaboutthemsides.tumblr.com/post/171191350684/sanders-sides-soulmate-au-but)





	1. Eight Zeros, the Prince of the Universe, and a Pale, Glowing Thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt (I hesitate to call it that because this is a fully told story we have, I just added some detail, really) on Robin's Tumblr (@allaboutthemsides) and my fingers started moving. I hope everyone likes it!  
> Three more things:  
> 1\. This is my first Sanders Sides fic, so forgive me if anything seems too far out of character~  
> 2\. I did NOT run this by my beta before I posted it, as such, there may be a few mistakes in spelling. Please point them out to me so I can fix them and not look like a fool!!  
> 3\. I got excited and made a playlist on Spotify for this fic. Link: https://open.spotify.com/user/smiley8%29/playlist/5yLewSdbPRyR62YirtvBL8?si=n5Tw35OHTbWlf6hWAFczdA

Eight zeros and a two colons pressed up against each other. Matched up perfectly- Zero to zero, zero to zero, colon to colon, zero to zero, zero to zero. Four of these zeros and two of these dots was called Logan. The other was Patton. Their arms were pressed together, their fingers intertwined, one’s palm flush against the palm of the other. It was nearly impossible to tell where one of the boys ended and the other began.

Logan had convinced himself that it was out of necessity- despite his glasses, Patton would fall down the stairs without holding on to  _ something- _ but Patton knew that it wasn’t that, so much as it was that Logan was the one who needed to hold onto something. Someone. It was an unspoken understanding that neither of them would draw attention to this fact.

Whenever they held hands, their zeros- timers run out of time- matched up perfectly. The two of them were lucky. When each was born, his timer had significantly less time on it than the average person might have on theirs. Ninety-six thousand, three hundred and sixty hours sounds like a long time to wait to meet your soulmate, but when you let yourself recognize that it’s only eleven years, it hardly seems like any time at all.

But of course, they both still had to wait. Patton was still colorblind and Logan still had an entire universe painted on his skin. For now though, they were perfectly fine being just the two of them. They would walk the halls hand in hand and zero to zero, slipping from class to class together. Inseparable.

Middle school was over as soon as it began and thank the lord for that. The only good that came of those three very strange, very awkward years was Logan and Patton’s first kiss.

On the last day of summer, the two of them sat on the edge of Logan’s roof despite how dangerous Logan told his boyfriend it was, wrapped up in a blanket together and Patton had a good feeling about the year to come. Freshman year still felt like a far away dream for both of them. High school was a distant land, wrapped up in shiny stars and swirling clouds, strange and mystical, but nothing to worry about. Not right now, anyway.

Patton snuggled deeper into the blanket and closer to Logan and they watched the sun setting on the last day of freedom before the start of the school year.

“Is it pretty?” He asked after a while.

“What? Is what pretty?”

“The sunset,” Patton clarified. “The colors.”

“Uh, yeah,” Logan said awkwardly. He cleared his throat before gaining enough confidence to continue. “Yeah, it’s really pretty, Patton.”

Patton closed his eyes and turned his face against Logan’s chest. “Tell me about it? What the colors look like?”

Logan hugged his boyfriend to his chest and studied the colors of the sunset. “The clouds are orange and pink,” he said, “And the sky’s blue still, but near the horizon it almost looks yellow- not sunflower yellow, but… buttercup yellow? I think? And it’s-”

“What do they feel like?” Patton interrupted, turning his head ever so slightly to look up at Logan.

“I beg your pardon?” Colors, Logan thought, didn’t  _ feel _ like anything.

“Y’know, when you look at it.” Patton closed his eyes again. “What does it make you feel?”

“It makes me feel…” When he looked at the sunset, Logan didn’t feel a whole lot. It was pretty, yes- beautiful even, but it didn’t make him  _ feel. _ But… Oh, Patton had his eyes closed, he wouldn’t know the difference. “It feels like... everything good in the universe was rolled up and put in my hands. Like somebody said ‘Here, kid. You get all of this beauty. All of it’s yours.’” The galaxy on his arm shimmered and he imagined how the world must look to Patton: Black, white, and grey. He took a deep breath. “‘And you’ve got to share it sometimes, but for now it’s all yours.’” When he looked up, he could barely see the sun anymore as it sunk off the edge of the earth. He suddenly felt something for sunsets. Something wild and eratic. He felt love for the sunset. For Patton. “I just don’t want to mess it up.”

Patton nudged him with a finger, eyes open and smiling. “That sounds like a great sunset, Logan.” His hand reached up and covered Logan’s heart. “I’m sure you won’t mess it up.,” he whispered. “You couldn’t. Promise.”

Logan put his hand over the one already holding his heart- his whole heart, his whole  _ being- _ and leaned down and kissed Patton. The angles were awkward and Logan’s neck hurt, but he didn’t really care. He kissed Patton until every last drop of light from the sinking sun had been sucked from the sky, until their world was draped in a black curtain, until someone came along and poked holes in the curtain for light to shine through and called them stars.

And then they needed to breathe.

Patton kept his eyes closed and if Logan hadn’t been so infatuated with watching the face before him, he would have closed his too. They would have sat there, forehead to forehead for hours and hours with their eyes closed. They didn’t.

“Is it over?” Patton asked. “The sunset?”

“Yeah,” Logan told him. “It’s over.”

When he opened his eyes, stars reflected in his irises. “I can’t wait to see one,” he said, staring at the horizon as though the sun would float up again to give him the answers. To give him the colors.

Logan’s chest constricted. His heart hurt.  _ You’ve got to share it sometimes. _

“Lo?” Patton asked, ever perceptive to the plights of others. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Pat. I just…” He chewed his lip.

“You just…” Patton encouraged.

“I’m just prematurely jealous of whoever your other soulmate is. They’re going to come along and completely sweep you off your feet and I’ll just… be here still. I’m not anywhere as…  _ wonderful _ as they’re bound to be. I’m afraid that you’re going to love them more.” He watched the stars wink and shine in Patton’s eyes. “But the thing is, when you do find out that you love them more than me, I’ll want you to go with them because I want you to be happy. So I guess I’m also prematurely angry with myself for letting you go.”

Patton wiggled out of Logan’s arms and sat cross-legged across from him. Their knees bumped together and Logan’s heart slammed against the cage of bone it was trapped in. “Logan,” Patton said seriously. “How could you ever think I could be happy  _ without you? _ There’s no way I could ever… Logan, I love you. I love you so much it hurts! That’s never gonna change- there’s nothing you could do to ever make me leave you!” He reached across the space between them and tangled their fingers together. “We both have another soulmate, Lo. Maybe it’s the same person, maybe it isn’t, but they’ll have to understand that I’ll love  _ both _ of you when they come along. I won’t let anything ever come between us.” He brought their hands up and pressed his lips to Logan’s knuckles. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Logan conceded. “I love you, too, by the way, Pat.” It made him happy that saying ‘I love you’ would still make Patton blush. “Come on,” he stood up. “I’ll walk you home.”

* * *

 

A blue and gold galaxy with the occasional freckle for a star lay, unfurled, on the back of a prince. Planets and space dust swirled across his shoulder blades and wrapped around his right arm. He had no kingdom but this. His own personal universe that he shared with only one other person in the universe. Together they would rule the black and white planets and star dust. The prince would know another who would be the key to giving his universe color.

The prince’s name was Roman and he ruled nothing but his galaxy and himself. He woke to the sun throwing its light into his room and he woke to the sound of his alarm playing the  _ Tangled _ soundtrack. He dressed himself and fed himself and brushed his teeth and brushed his hair and called goodbye to no one. Just the same as every morning- no  _ not _ this morning.

He tried not to be upset that his parents wouldn’t be there to see him off on his first day of high school.

The bus was crowded and loud and Roman decided that he was going to do it one better. He sat down next to a girl (another freshman, he assumed) and introduced himself with a smile. She told him that her name was Cara.

The two of them chatted about nothing as the bus bumped down the road, but when it pulled up to the driveway of campus, they both fell silent. Both Cara and Roman had come from small middle schools (public and private respectively). But high school didn’t seem to exist in the same way that a middle school did. Roman, for a moment, thought it almost  _ too big. _

But he decided he was going to match it, too.

He pulled the hem of three-quarters-sleeve down again so it wouldn’t ride up and over his elbow and prepared himself.

He was going to make this work.

The school was set on acres and acres of land, the actual buildings only appearing after several hundred feet of driveway. Roman wondered, briefly, if he had accidentally boarded a bus to a college campus instead of a high school. Buildings of glass and copper and brick dotted the campus, rich green grass filling the spaces in between. There seemed to be a building for everything, all labeled with the names of rich donors and company sponsors.

He convinced himself that he belonged here. He was worthy of this fancy private school education. He was lucky. His father afforded him luxuries like these. He should be grateful. He was grateful.

It was the first day of high school and Roman knew no one. He was no one. He was just another freshman who was lost trying to get to class. It wouldn’t be that way for long.

_ He was going to make this work. _

* * *

 

In the darkness, pale things glow. They shimmer and shine and stand out against their harsh surroundings. Like a beacon of blinding light. They’re noticeable.

The same goes for dark things in the light. A pen could open up a black hole in a paper. A mitten stood out on the snow of a ski slope. Marks stood out on skin.

But what stood out more than marks on skin? The  _ lack _ of marks on skin.

Virgil was a pale thing glowing in the darkness. He shimmered and he shined and he stood out. An abomination. Kids can be cruel, but only because we tell them to be.

Virgil's world was colorful, but bleak. Virgil’s skin was uninterrupted, but it interrupted his life. Virgil’s watch was analog and wouldn’t tell him when he would meet his soulmate. So far as the universe was concerned, there was no one out there for him. No one to love. No one to be loved by.

An abomination.

People threw things at him as he walked down the halls. Because they knew. Because there had been a point in his life when Virgil thought it was okay to tell people. Before he learned that he was an abomination. Pencils and balled up notebook paper bounced off his backpack and littered the hallway behind him. If he turned the volume on his headphones up high enough, he could almost drown out the taunts and insults that were shouted after him.

Kids can be cruel.

But only because we tell them to be.

His mother had never told another living soul that her son had no soulmark. It had been his fault anyone had ever found out in the first place. But children have no filter. That’s how his kindergarten classmates had found out. That’s how their parents found out, too. And then all the children learned how bad it was.

_ Abomination. _

And now here he was. Freshman year of high school with his kindergarten classmates who all hated him because no one could ever love him. Who could ever love him?

He kept his head down and sat in the back of his first two classes- so far down, in fact, he hardly learned anything at all. During break, he tried to escape to an empty classroom, but he couldn’t. Kids with twisted smiles and hateful eyes cornered him in the hallway. They surrounded him with their bodies and their insults and they wouldn’t let him go. A boy slammed a ruler across Virgil’s back. Hit after hit after hit after hitafterhitafterhitafterhitafterhit.

Break was fifteen minutes of  agony.

It was only the first day school.

* * *

 

Pain lept from star to star like lighting lept to the ground in a thunderstorm. It felt like being beat with a stick.

The prince of the stars pressed his back against the wall and tried to breathe.

“Roman? What’s wrong?” Cara had found him again during their break. So far, she hadn’t met anyone else. He was alright with calling her a friend.

“Just-  _ ow- _ back pains,” he told her. “Nothing to be concerned about!”

“Whatever you say.”

* * *

 

Eight zeros and two colons walked down the hallway hand in hand. Their first day of school was done and nothing of interest had happened at all. They walked to the bus waiting at the curb and they sat down together, paying no mind to anyone else there.

“Have you eaten since lunch?”

“You know I haven’t…”

“Here, take half my protein bar.”

“Thanks, Pat. You have all of your homework papers, right?”

“You know I don’t start losing things until the second week of school.”

“Hm. Make it the third this year.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

* * *

 

The pale, glowing boy always walked home from school. Today, his backpack rested awkwardly on his stomach, lest it agitate the bruises on his back. When he was younger, he would watch his kids run around with their backpacks on their bellies claiming to be pregnant.

He balled his hands into fists at the unfairness of it all. It wasn’t his fault he had no soulmate! It wasn’t his fault he could never be loved! His nails were too short to inflict much pain as he pressed them into his palms, but he pressed them anyway.

Maybe he wanted to prove that they weren’t the only ones who could hurt him.

* * *

 

The fingers of a colorblind boy with no time left danced through the hair of the owner of a galaxy.

They were done with their homework.

Light poured out of the television screen and washed Logan’s sleeping face in white. Patton tried to imagine what the colors looked like as they swept through the room and soaked everything in their beauty.

His fingers ceased to dance and he leaned down to press soft kisses to his boyfriend’s forehead. One for each day they’d known each other- no, he couldn’t do that math right now. One for each year- not enough! That was only three!  _ One for every piece of me that loves you.  _ Yes, that was-

Pain shot up his arm like a bullet and his kisses faltered. He sat up and watched four half moons appear in the heel of each of his palms. But just as soon as they were there, they were gone again.

He decided he must’ve been dreaming and curled up next to Logan on the couch. As far as Patton was concerned, there was one sure fire way to escape strange dreams: Close your eyes and let a different dream carry you away.


	2. The First Sunset, the Last Sunset, and the Scholarship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'd hoped to get this out yesterday, but my beta fell asleep sooo. Anyway! Thank you to my beta who operates under the name MorganTheRaverin on here- we've done a few Classy Collabs on fics so check those out if you want I guess.  
> I feel like there's a lack of Virgil in this chapter, but he's still operating by himself and I don't want to create a plethora of OCs just to beat him up. (poor Virgil omg) But he'll be with the others soon!  
> Well this is a long note :/ Check out the Spotify if you wanna, it's chill. Um. Thanks for commenting if you did on last chapter it was so, so sweet! I hope you enjoy this as much as the last!

It happened a week after he started losing things: Patton’s world started to shift and shimmer. His hand was tight on Logan’s wrist and his eyes were fixed on the fire alarm trigger across the hall. It had simply  _ changed. _

“Logan?” He asked, his eyes held wide with the fear of blinking and letting this  _ change _ undo itself.

“Hm?”

“What color are the fire alarm triggers supposed to be?”

“They’re red, Patton. Everybody know-“ his eyes flicked up from the screen of his computer and landed on the the alarm trigger. “Patton, are you-?”

“I think so,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to tell. It just  _ changed. _ What is red supposed to look like?”

“It’s impossible to describe colors,” he said automatically, his heart pounding. His mind was far away trying to convince his heart that Patton loved him- would  _ never _ stop loving him- and no one who came along was going to be able to change that. He  _ knew _ all of these things, yet his heart revolted, fearful and selfish and unwilling to accept change.

The heart could break a man’s mind.

“I think my other soulmate is here, Logan. They’re here!” He smiled a blinding smile at Logan and ran up to the little red box. When Patton’s hand left his arm, Logan felt an omnipresent warmth drain from his very soul.

He needed to calm down.

Patton’s colors were still muted, but he didn’t know that. To me or to you, they would look as though somebody had written in bright Sharpie pen before covering it with heavy shading. As though you  were looking through fog or smoke. As though you were squinting in the dark. But to Patton, they were bright, bright,  _ bright, _ making his head spin and his heart hammer. He turned back around to grin at his boyfriend again and- “Logan! Your backpack! What color?”

“Wha- it’s blue… Patton, I know you’re excited, but you need to calm down. You’re causing a scene.”

There were, in fact, a few other freshmen staring, but Patton couldn’t care less. All the same, he started back across the hall to Logan.

He didn’t make it there before the whole world exploded.

* * *

 

Roman was quite sure he was going blind. Which was going to be a problem because he had eleven lines to memorize for the play and he couldn’t do that if he couldn’t  _ see _ them. First period was a disaster. He had been  _ called on _ by the teacher. He hadn’t known the answer because he couldn’t see the question, so he’d said two.

He’d been in English class.

Second period, however, was free period. Meaning he could  _ kindly ask _ Cara to hold his hand and guide him down the halls while running the few lines he already knew. She found his Wally Webb incredibly endearing, a fact for which he was glad.

Still, he was blind and it seemed to be getting worse with every step he took forward. Try something a moment, if you would. If you wouldn’t hurt yourself doing so, anyway.  Find a bright light and stare at it. Just  _ stare _ for a while. Don’t avert your eyes, don’t blink too long. Then close your eyes, open them, and try to look at something else. If you’ve done as I’ve asked, you should be watching a strange, moving spot dance across this new thing you’ve looked at. Now imagine hundreds more of these spots of all shapes and sizes dancing across a black and white school hallway.

That’s what Roman’s world looked like and it was starting to make him sick. But he could push through! He could keep saying his lin- Oh, god, no, he couldn’t. “Hey, Cara, you can just leave me here, actually…”

“Huh?” She giggled. “Roman, you can’t see, silly! I’m not gonna let you walk around running into things!”

“No, really, it’s okay. I’m just gonna stay here a minute. I think I’m getting my vision back, I’m just a little bit nauseated.” He was  _ not _ getting his vision back.

“Oh! Do you need, like… crackers or something?”

“No, no! I’m fine!” He shooed her off down the hall. (At least he was pretty sure he did. He couldn’t see  _ anything _ at that point.)

“Okay…” He heard her walk away.

And then he was just standing there. He didn’t know where he was in relation to anything else in the entire school. He could’ve been standing blind in a passing hall, just waiting to get trampled as soon as break started. And if he moved, he was bound to run straight into a wall.

He hadn’t thought this through. But it was too late. So he just stood.

At least he did until the entire world exploded.

* * *

 

There was a boy who could only tell you the time off his wrist at exactly midnight. He had wide, hopeful eyes and a bright, gleaming smile. He gave the world’s best hugs and didn’t have a bad thing to say about anyone. He loved his boyfriend and he loved his mother. He’d never seen a sunset, but that could change tonight if he wanted it to.

The boy staring down at him was a masterful work of art. Swirling and shining and-

_ Colorful. _

His other soulmate.

* * *

 

There was a prince with no kingdom to protect. He had a grand aura and a charming voice. He could lift anyone up to the skies with a song and threw shade like no one’s business. He tried to love himself and he loved the people he surrounded himself with. He’d never seen a sunset either, but that could change tonight, too.

The boy staring up at him looked like a good song sounds. Glowing and bright and-

_ Colorful. _

His first soulmate.

* * *

 

There was a boy who didn’t belong in this picture. His eyes were dark with a brewing storm and his mouth was pulled into a thin line. He could tell you anything you wanted to know, but he couldn’t tell you why he suddenly felt the way he did. He loved his boyfriend, but he couldn’t bring himself to love himself. He’d seen sunset after sunset, but oh! if only he had known he would have seen his last the night before.

The boys he was staring at looked like a movie. Perfectly angled and big screen ready and-

_ Bleak. _

They were soulmates.

* * *

 

Roman’s breath left him in a rush that sounded vaguely like “Hi.” He felt warm and foolish and wonderful.

The boy gave him a small wave. “I’m Patton…” His eyes were huge and full of mirth that shined through the lenses of his glasses like the sun shined through the atmosphere.

“...I’m Roman.” He took a small step back so that the two of them weren’t pressed up into each other’s personal space so tightly. If this was really happening, they would have time to be pressed up against each other later. Much later. “Are you… Is this…” He tried to find the right words to form the question. “You’re… Am I hallucinating or something…?” It’s not the question I, personally, would have asked, but to each their own.

Patton shook his head. “Logan says that it’s absolutely impossible for the colorblind to imagine colors. No hallucinating.”

“Good.” He frowned a moment. “Who’s Logan?”

“Oh!” Patton pointed to the other side of the hallway where another boy sat behind a table with cautious eyes. “That’s Logan! Hi, Logan!”

“Patton… Come back over here,” he said, looking up and down the hall. “Break starts soon, you’ll get hurt if you just stand there.”

“Okay!” Patton bounded over to the table and snuggled up against Logan like a cat. “Logan, you eyes!” He held Logan’s face in his hands and grinned. “They’re so pretty! What color are they?”

A nearly indistinguishable, yet somehow plainly affectionate look crossed Logan’s face and he grabbed onto Patton’s wrists and kissed him.

Roman’s head spun.

“They’re just brown, Patton,” Logan was saying while Roman stared, his heart sinking further with each passing second.

“Well, they’re a pretty brown,” Patton said. He let go of Logan’s face and looked over at Roman. “Come over here, silly!” Roman suddenly found himself walking over and sitting down on Patton’s right. His feet felt like lead. “Roman,” Patton said, “Meet Logan. He’s my soulmate!” He didn’t give Roman’s mind but a heartbeat to catch up before he was saying “Logan, meet Roman. He’s also my soulmate!”

Logan put out his hand across Patton’s lap, waiting for a handshake, and Roman noticed four little zeros on the inside of his wrist. They matched the ones that he had failed to notice on Patton’s left wrist in the few minutes prior.

Patton had two soulmates. Just like he did. He could work with that.

* * *

 

Virgil needed to get the heck outta Dodge. Four weeks.  _ Four weeks. _

It’s been a month and he was already more damaged than he ever thought possible. On Monday of week two, he’d arrived at school to find that his locker had been super glued shut. When he’d finally been able to track down a janitor with enough upper body strength to wrench it open, he found it stuffed with notes- none of them particularly kind.

He shouldn’t have read them. But he did anyway.

Forget them not being particularly kind- they were all downright  _ cruel. _

Thursday, week three. After gym, the other boys stole his day clothes while he showered. He’d put his dirty gym clothes back on, but he hadn’t gone to his next class. He’d sat against the locker room wall, cold, smelly, and alone with his chin tipped up to the sky as though he was daring to challenge some higher power- like he was ready to fight for an answer. A boy filled with rage and despondency and desperation.  _ Why me? _

Indeed, we ask of ourselves on our own time, Why him? He was but a child- though it’s still wildly difficult to imagine handing a fate so cruel as his to anyone of any age.

Friday, week four. He had made up his mind while he was being taunted down the hallways.

_ He needed to get the heck outta Dodge. _

During his off period, he stormed his advisor's office and took it hostage with one simple statement.

“I need to transfer- soon.”

His advisor, completely aware of his unique soulmate situation and everything at entailed, was entirely in agreement, though not for the reasons that you or I might call the “right” ones. He wanted Virgil gone, gone,  _ gone. _ Perhaps you can understand why, perhaps you can’t, but do think about difficult your life would be if you had to dole out disciplinary measures for every paper tossed, every insult hurled, and every fist thrown. And for a kid you might’ve launched something at if given half the chance.

But Virgil didn’t need to know that.

And the two of them started to work then and there. They found a school on the complete opposite side of town- at least an hour away, but the commute was the least of their worries. The school’s acceptance rate was low, low,  _ low _ even for students of Virgil's caliber- his being the top of the class could largely be caused by his lack of any form of social life and his constant need for a distraction from the mundane and monotonous pain of his school day experiences.

“How high would my GPA have to be to get in?”

“It depends… It’s a private school- an  _ expensive _ private school- so you’d want to try for all the scholarship money you could possibly get.”

“How high’s the GPA for, like, a full academic scholarship? Four-point-oh?”

“Three-point-nine or that. Do you really thin-”

“Great.” Virgil swung his backpack over his shoulders and started walking out. “I need to go study for this test, then.”

He was going to get out of there if it killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins a new great love story. And hate story. But also love story. Confusing, right? You'll get it eventually. Probably. I hope.  
> If you liked this, give a kudos and give it a comment! Or better yet, give it a reblog on my Tumblr! @mx-gryffindorotaku  
> IMPORTANT: I'd kinda like to have another beta if that would be possible! Not for spelling and/or grammar, but for content! Like, "does this actually make sense?" "is this even a valid metaphor?" "is it clear what this is supposed to mean or is there not enough text to draw the correct subtext?" That kinda stuff. Interest you? Hmu on Tumblr with an ask or a DM for details!  
> 


	3. Three’s a Crowd and One’s Not Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan's jealous and Roman's in love. Patton's worried and Virgil's scared. And, my god, when are Logan and Roman gonna realize?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: I'm putting a trigger warning on this chapter, so if you're at risk of relapsing because of mentions of self-harm, please take this warning seriously. The mention of self-harm is rather brief, but it made my beta relapse earlier today and, while I was able to physically be near him to help, I won't be able to do that for any of you because we live faar my friends! For reference, it happens after the first line break and it happens to Virgil. There's fluff to wash it down, but please, please, please be careful with it!
> 
> I'll explain where I've been for the past three weeks in the end notes!

There are feuds that start over political disputes. There are feuds that start over the deaths of kings. Feuds that start over a friendship gone sour. This feud started over a boy with two true loves. Surely the prince of the now colorful universe could win the affections of his bright-eyed soulmate. Surely this other boy, this Logan, posed no threat to Roman. Surely Patton would be his-

But would that even be fair? Roman wondered. If it were him, not Patton, torn between two, would he not want to love his two true loves equally? Would he not want them to love each other- whether or not they, too, were soulmates? Would he not worry himself ill every night, fearful of losing them both?

He found, two weeks too late, that his answer to all of these questions was yes. But six weeks into the school year, how much could be changed? How much could be changed when, at the end of week five, Roman and Patton had gone to a homecoming party and Logan had stayed home? But here’s the thing about going to parties- especially high school parties, you learn a lot about whoever you chose to go with.

Allow me to paint you a small picture.

The room had been a kind of loud that Patton had never experienced before- the kind of loud that shook your body and left your skin tingling, the kind of loud that rattled your brain and left your ears ringing

He loved it.

The bodies had been a kind of close that didn’t seem possible until you saw it- they were tied together with rope as they twisted and twirled, but they were loose and free as birds in the midnight sky.

He loved it.

His feet had been glued to the floor, but he could jump higher than ever before.

He loved it.

And as Roman watched Patton lose himself to the music and the heat and the bodies and the dance floor, he felt the first inklings of a feeling that you might call love. The thought that this bright-eyed, kind-hearted boy with the bad jokes and the billion freckles was to be his made Roman’s heart stutter and sing.

The beginnings of love.

_ Love. _

I sincerely hope that you understand how astounding this was, this concept of  _ love _ and  _ Roman. _

Love  _ for _ Roman.

Logan didn't appreciate Roman’s finding love as much as Roman did, but Patton had been prepared for that. (That isn’t to say that he didn't secretly hope for more excitement from his boyfriend).

“So, was the party fun?” It was all wrong: the face, the tone of voice, the look in his eyes.

“Lo… baby, please don’t be like this…”

“Be like what, Patton? I’m just asking you how the party was.”

“You know what you're being like when you're being like… it.” It was going to be all right: he was going to make this work out for the three of them. Or die trying. He took Logan's hand and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. “Do you wanna go see  _ Black Panther _ with me on Friday?”

“Is Rom-”

“Just the two of us, Loganberry. Promise.”

Logan’s eyes brightened, if even just a bit. “Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.”

“Good.” Patton leaned over a pressed several soft kisses on his boyfriend’s face, before pressing one last kiss to his lips. “I'll buy tickets after school.”

“Okay. I love you, Pat.”

“I love you, too, Lo.”

Zero to zero, dot to dot, they walked down the hallway. They had a date on Friday. Everything was going to be alright.

* * *

 

Virgil wished for nothing more than a friend.

He was unworthy of romance. Unworthy of the kind of love full of gentle touches and soft kisses. He knew that. But how could he be unworthy of friendship, too? Unworthy of the kind of love full of laughter and playful punches?

Virgil wished for nothing more than a friend.

He had thought he might’ve found one in his advisor. The man helping him get out. His savior, his hero, his  _ friend. _

Obviously, Virgil had been far too trusting. Far too hopeful. Far too foolish. He’d come into the office five minutes too early. Five deadly minutes too early. He’d heard things he shouldn’t have heard. Things he didn’t want to hear or think about or feel or anything because GODDAMNIT, HE KNEW ALREADY, HE KNEW, HE KNEW, HE KNEW HE KNEW HE KNEW HE KNEWHEKNEWHEKNEWHEKNEWHEKN-

He knew already.

He hadn’t gone to the meeting. He’d turned right back around and started running. He ran straight home without stopping for a moment. He probably beat the school’s record for running a mile. Maybe even the whole district’s. He blew through the front door and had barely tripped over the threshold of his bedroom before he collapsed on the floor and broke down completely.

There’s a feeling that’s impossible to describe. Absolute devastation is different for everyone. (That’s why.) For Virgil, it felt like being slowly, slowly,  _ slowly _ crushed from above and not being able to move your feet. He started to cry and he cried so hard and he cried so loud, he couldn’t hear himself think. That was okay. He didn’t want to hear himself think. Not at all.

His mind was screaming.

When he was able to stand up (slowly, slowly, heavy feet, heavy heart), he walked, with blurry eyes and and shaking legs, to the kitchen and did the only think he could think to do. Looking back, he wouldn’t be able to explain himself. He’d never even thought about it before. Never tried it. Didn’t even really know how. But he pulled a little kitchen knife out of the block and stared at it.

A question posed to an empty house: “What am I doing?”

He carried on without an answer. He held the tip to the inside of his left wrist and tried to breathe. But panic set in and he pulled it away.

His mind kept screaming.

Deep breath.

Try again.

He held it against himself longer, but pulled away again. He threw the knife on the counter with little regard for the things already there. He didn’t have enough of his mind to himself to think about it. He didn’t even if this would work. He didn’t know  _ how _ it would work if it did. But before he could think another thought against it, he grabbed the knife and made to press it against his wrist and dragged it.

At the last second, he flipped his arm over. A small, red river opened up on the back of his forearm and started to flow like a mountain stream. And everything hurt. He dropped the knife in the kitchen sink and pressed his right hand over the cut.

_ “Fuck.” _

He didn’t know where his mother kept the bandages. Not the ones big enough to deal with this, anyway. He ran to the bathroom holding his arm over his head, still covering the bleeding gash with his hand. Somewhere in his panicked, screaming mind, a small, reasonable voice told him that doing so would stop him from bleeding out. He didn’t know if it was true.

When his mother came home twenty-four minutes later, she found him on the floor of the bathroom with his hands over his ears and pinky-sized bandages covering his arm and the bathroom floor. There were tears on his face and there was a scream in his mouth. She was inhumanly calm as she found the bandages big enough, knelt by his side and cleaned him up.

There were tears in her eyes, yes, but the scream? The scream was in her ears. She wrapped the scream up in a hug and held him tight, shushing him and petting his hair. And eventually the scream became a series of sobs and eventually that series of sobs became a boy. And she held that boy until they could both breath again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorryImsorryImsorryImsorryImsorryImsorryIm-”

“Wh-Why…?” She knew why. He knew why. The whole world seemed to know why.

“I won’t- ev-ever again- I can-t- didn’t hel-p…”

Virgil swore to himself on the bathroom floor, wrapped up in his mother’s arms that he would never rely on anyone but her. Never try to be loved by anyone but her. She was the only person in the world who cared about him. The only one. The only one who ever could. Who ever would. He didn’t dwell on the fact that it was because she had to.

* * *

 

Logan had someone who cared about him, too. More than just his mother and father. He had friends- friends who cared about him and weren’t unnecessarily cruel, friends who didn’t think he was a freak. Though they did find him rather odd.

And Logan had Patton.

Logan had Patton all to himself today. He’d missed that. But Roman popped up around every godforsaken corner and then they would have to share Patton.

Logan could admit that he was, perhaps, being a bit foolish. Because he knew Patton and he knew when Patton was happy and when Patton was not. And Patton was not. Not particularly anyway. He was worried and he was scared.

They were waiting in line to buy tickets for  _ Black Panther. _ “Patton, I… I’m sorry.”

Patton laughed. “What are you sorry for, Lo?” His hand was warm and reassuring in Logan’s. He knew what Logan was sorry for, he was just going to force him to say it. “You haven’t got anything to be sorry about!”

“Yes. I do.” He looked straight into Patton’s sad, beautiful eyes and forced himself not to look away. “I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting lately and I’m sorry I haven’t been… making an effort, really, to get along with Roman. I won’t patronize you with excuses, but I’ll promise to… to try harder with him. To try and be friends. I know it… puts a lot of pressure on you that we aren’t on good terms  _ just _ because we’re both your soulmates. It’s unfair to you.” He squeezed Patton’s hand tight and tried to smile. He was scared “I just want to make you happy, Pat. I love you.”

The way Patton smiled made it easier for Logan to smile for real, too. His dark eyes were happy again and a weight was lifted from Logan’s shoulders. “Apology accepted, Loganberry. And… I need to work on this, too. I’m not gonna just expect you guys to be best friends just because of  _ me.” _ He giggled. “I’m not worth  _ fighting over!” _

Logan pulled Patton against his chest and held him there. “Of course you are, love.”

Patton laughed and smacked a weak fist against Logan’s chest. “Oh, stop it!” He wound his arms around Logan’s waist and they held each other for a while in the ticket booth line while a woman at the front of the line held everyone else up by insisting that she was a student when she clearly wasn’t. “I love you, too, by the way.”

Logan’s chest felt light and clean. He smiled. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

Patton bought the tickets and Logan bought the movie snacks- Patton’s sweet tooth always had a way of evening out the two costs. They were early enough to get into the theater to be able to find two seats in the perfect center, something for which Logan was silently grateful. (Which wasn’t to say he would have been particularly upset at having a different seat. A Marvel movie was a Marvel movie, after all.)

The armrest was liftable, so they essentially turned the two seats into one, snuggling up against each other with the sweet snacks on either side of them and the popcorn mashed somewhere between them.

“Logan! You can’t start eating the popcorn until the movie starts!”

“What?” Logan whined, putting his hand back into the popcorn bucket and throwing more into his mouth. “Patton, we have  _ so many snacks. _ If we don’t at least  _ start _ eating them now, we’ll never finish them by the end of the movie!” He took a little bit more from the bowl and stuck it in Patton’s open mouth before he could argue. “You know I’m right.” Patton glared, but with his cheeks puffed out and mouth full of popcorn, it was hard for Logan to take him seriously. “Oh my god, you look like an angry chipmunk.” Patton’s eyes went big and Logan laughed. “Hold still!” He reached for his phone and took a picture of his fuming, giggling boyfriend. “I’ll wait to show it to you- don’t choke.”

Patton scowled and tried to swallow the popcorn- it took him three minutes and a few too many sips of their Coca-cola. “Alright, show me.” Logan looked at the picture again and fell into another laughing fit as he handed Patton his phone. It was immediately thrown right back into his lap. “LOGAN!” Patton covered his face with hands and Logan laughed harder. “I  _ hate you!!” _

“But I thought you loved me!”

“I don’t, I hate you!”

“You said so yourself, you  _ love _ me!”

“I take it back! I changed my mind! You’re awful!”

“Ah,  _ that, _ I’ll admit to, but you still love me.” He subdued his laughter and pulled at Patton’s fingers, trying to get them away from his face. “Patton~. Lemme see you~.”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “I won’t, I won’t!”

Logan kissed at his hands and every exposed part of his face. “Please?”

“No!” He said again, but his fingers slipped ever-so-slightly. Logan took the opportunity in stride. He wrapped his fingers around Patton’s and pulled them down. Patton’s face was red and he was trying not to laugh.

Logan was lucky. Really, he was the luckiest kind of person.

“I love you,” he said. All of his loud happiness from the moments before faded into a quiet kind of joy that carried in his voice and in his hands.

Patton’s red and blotchy face got redder and blotchier. “I love you, too,” he said in a tone to match. Logan leaned forward and kissed Patton soft. He tasted like popcorn and Coca-Cola.

When the movie started, Patton let Logan eat their popcorn as he chewed on Milk Duds and Junior Mints. Halfway through the movie, while Logan had his arm wrapped tightly around Patton’s waist, he felt a strange pain in his left forearm. Something akin to being set aflame, perhaps. A queer burning that was sharp and hot and confusing.

But he decided to focus on the movie instead of focusing on the pain. He wanted to enjoy this date with Patton. So he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hope you liked that. New chapter will be out faster than that one, promise.  
> Where was I? I went on an exchange in France! I'm in the process of putting pictures on my Tumblr so check that out if you wanna. The tag is "Léo en la France" @mx-gryffindorotaku is my URL! Hit me up with questions, comments, concerns, and confessions! (I'll take all four :P)  
> But seriously, check out my Tumblr. Please. I'm lonely over there all alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, tell me if you want me to keep going with this! Comments are always appreciated and if you wanna come say hi, find me on Tumblr! @mx-gryffindorotaku


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